


Meaning It

by shadowsamurai



Category: Waking the Dead (TV)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Subtext
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-02
Updated: 2012-07-02
Packaged: 2017-11-09 01:29:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/449741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowsamurai/pseuds/shadowsamurai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Epilogue for Season 4, Episodes 9 & 10, 'The Hardest Word, Parts 1 & 2'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meaning It

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, I'm just borrowing things for a while and I promise I'll put everything back exactly how I found it when I've finished. Well, almost exactly how I found it. ;)

WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD

Boyd watched Greta leave and sighed. He hated cases like this more than any other, where abuse was the reason behind the murders. He would never, ever, as long as he lived, understand who a parent could abuse their child. It made him sick and it took all of his self-control not to go back into the interview room and beat Greta's father to within an inch of his life. But Boyd wouldn't do that, not ever again if he could help it. Not after the look on Grace's face. After she had told him she never wanted to see him like that again. After she wouldn't forgive him, and he realised he'd have to earn it. Boyd might have been the senior member of the team, the one in charge, but that didn't mean his team wouldn't give him shit if he stepped out of line.

He walked slowly to his office, lost in his thoughts. The only light was coming from his lamp; the rest of the room was in darkness, and that was why he didn't see her. It wasn't until Boyd sat at his desk and stared forward that his dark eyes locked with her blue ones.

"Hi," he said quietly.

"Hi," she replied. That was the standard opening for their conversations, and it brought a sense of comfortable familiarity to the situation.

"I'm sorry about before, Grace. I let the situation get the better of me."

"Yes, you did," she said. "We all felt the same, Boyd. The difference is we can control ourselves."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"You've said that several times already, Boyd, you don't need to say it again," Grace told him. "If you mean it, you only need to say sorry once."

"Really?"

"Really."

"So I'm forgiven?"

"For the tantrum in the interview room?" Grace sighed. "Yes."

Boyd was going to ask what else he needed forgiveness for, but after pondering the unanswered question for a moment, he thought he had a good idea what the answer would be.

"Has Greta gone home?" Grace asked quietly.

Boyd nodded. "I told her we'd see her tomorrow, for the paperwork," he said quietly.

"You were tactful, I hope."

"Very," he replied sincerely.

Grace smiled. "Good."

After a pause, Boyd leant forward and looked the profiler straight in the eyes. "Would you care to join me for a late dinner, Dr. Foley? Or in the very least a drink, because I don't know about you but I could use one."

"What about Greta's father?" Grace asked.

"Spence can sort him out; he's capable enough."

"Alright. Give me five minutes," she replied softly.

Boyd smiled and reached for his phone. "Spence? Yeah, get Alexander booked and into a cell. No, I'll sign any paperwork that needs it tomorrow. Yes, I'm going home. Yes, Grace is leaving as well. Actually, Spence," the older man said, lowering his voice, "I'm going to do some grovelling to Grace. Yeah, a drink and maybe a meal. Thanks. If there are any problems, you can handle it. I'm going to turn my mobile off." He smiled. "Yeah, it is serious. This is Grace, after all. There's only one of her. Don't worry, I'll tell her. Night, Spence."

He turned his lamp off, turned his mobile phone off, and slipped his jacket on. He closed his office door quietly and went to lean against the doorframe to Grace's office. She hadn't noticed him, and Boyd had a rare opportunity to watch her. He wouldn't have called her graceful - no pun intended - or particularly beautiful, but there was something about her that he liked. He realised his teasing could be too much at times, and his behaviour towards Greta had only emphasised how thoughtless he could be.

"Ready?" Boyd asked, his voice gentle so he didn't make Grace jump.

"Yep. Given Spence his orders?"

"I have." He waited for her to close her office up before holding the door leading out of the bullpen open for. She smiled her thanks and they walked to the car park in comfortable silence. "I though we could try that Italian restaurant down the road," Boyd said as they climbed into his car. "I think they open late."

"As long as there's wine, I don't mind," Grace replied.

Luck was on their side as they arrived at the restaurant to see a few tables still occupied. Boyd escorted Grace inside, his hand resting lightly in the small of her back, and he smiled at the waiter. "Hi. I know we're probably pushing our luck, but are you still serving meals?" he asked politely.

The waiter took in their appearance and tired faces, and said, "Good evening, madam, sir. Just finished work?"

"Yeah," Boyd replied.

"Police?"

"Is he that obvious?" Grace asked, also smiling.

The waiter grinned back. "We get quite a few officers of the law in here, madam. Let me show you to a table and I'll see what the chef has to offer. May I get you something to drink while you're waiting?"

Grace looked at Boyd, but he gestured for her to answer. "Yes, please. A bottle of house red. I think we need it."

"Coming right up, madam." The waiter led them to a small table tucked away in a corner and left to get their drinks.

"That was thoughtful of him," Grace said to Boyd.

"What? Putting us in a quiet corner out of the way?"

She smiled. "Very good."

"I am a policeman, Grace. Observation is what we do."

The waiter arrived with a bottle and poured Grace's glass first. She sipped the wine, a thoughtful expression on her face, and nodded her approval. The waiter smiled and poured more wine for her, and a glass full for Boyd. "We have Farnetti pizza, which is olives, ham, pepperoni, mushrooms and onions, or we have the chef's special pasta dish."

"I'm more of a pasta kinda guy. Grace?" Boyd said.

She nodded. "Pasta for me too."

"Would you like me to tell you what's in it?" the waiter asked, smiling.

"Is it all dead?" Boyd replied bluntly, and the waiter nodded. "That's good enough for us."

The waiter grinned. "Your meal should be ready in about half an hour, sir. If you need anything in the meantime, just let me know."

"We'll probably need another bottle of wine by then," Boyd muttered, watching as Grace poured them another glass each; the first had gone down very well and extremely quickly. "And the number for a taxi later."

"Of course, sir," the waiter said as he left them alone.

Boyd waited until the wine was halfway down his glass before leaning onto the table. "I'm only going to say this once, Grace, because I mean it," he said quietly. "I'm sorry for the way I acted on this case, not just with the guy we arrested today, but for my unprofessional attitude towards Greta."

"You mean ogling and flirting?" Grace replied, sipping her wine.

"Ogling…ogling and flirting?" Boyd repeated slowly, shaking his head. "Are those professional terms, Dr. Foley?"

Grace smiled, reached forward and patted his hand. "Sorry. You were saying?"

"Yes, I was. I was saying that I can't help myself. I like women…."

"I have noticed."

"But I really wouldn't swap you for the world, Grace," he told her sincerely. "The team wouldn't be the success it is without you to keep me on the straight and narrow. But more than that, you are bloody good at what you do. And - and if it'll make you feel any better, next time an attractive woman comes to work in the office with us, I'll ignore her and flirt with you."

Grace started laughing straight away at his serious expression and his wide, puppy-dog eyes. "Oh, Boyd," she said, shaking her head. She reached across the table again and took his hand in hers, squeezing it.

She was still laughing when the waiter arrived with their meal. "Here you go, sir, madam. Would you like another bottle of wine?"

"Oh, I'm not sure that's a good idea," Grace said with some uncertainty.

"Why? Afraid you might lose your inhibitions, Grace?"

"With you? Definitely."

Boyd grinned, making him look years younger. "You can trust me, Grace. We are friends, after all."

She looked at him and smiled. "Yes. Yes, we are." She turned to the waiter. "Another bottle of wine would be lovely, thank you."

"Certainly, madam," the waiter replied, smiling.

Boyd filled their glasses up again and raised his. "To our friendship. Thanks - for putting up with me."

"You're welcome," Grace replied. "Cheers."

FIN


End file.
